


Fire/Earth/Water/Wind

by trillingstar



Series: Hardtime100 [3]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Community: hardtime100, Death Row, Drabble Sequence, Episode Related, Explicit Language, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Quadruple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four drabbles, one for each element.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire/Earth/Water/Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge #136: Elemental; Beecher, Keller, Beecher/Keller. Mentions of Cyril O'Reily and Officer Lopresti.  
> Word count: 100 words for each element.

  
Fire

I meant it when I said that every bad thing that's ever happened to me was as a result of alcohol, but I should have said they were the result of _me_ drinking alcohol. And this latest escapade was no different; I was frozen in place after the hacks dragged Chris away, and I think I stayed there until count, with the hard edge of the washing machine digging into my back. And he didn't come back, and I freaked out. The moonshine spread through my body like wildfire, and after that I didn't care if he ever came back.

\---

Earth

Exhausted and tense, Toby's crumpled on the top bunk, the weight of his tears heavy, a bleakness in his eyes that goes too deep. All that wailing stole his voice, and he's panting in short shivering gasps, struggling for each breath. I bring him food, he won't eat; his grief's gotta go somewhere, even if it's only as far as our pod, the quad, this prison, but it's not enough to live on. He won't talk to me. I want him to need me, so I can remind him of where he belongs and bring him back down to earth.

\--- 

Water

O'Reily is gonna shit a brick when he hears about this, not like there's anything he coulda done anyway, but... Cyril's folded up and crammed in the corner of his cell, soaking wet and even in the semi-darkness I can see he's shivering, his expression bewildered and lost. Fuckin' Lopresti and his goon squad playin' slip & slide with the retard, laughing as Cyril spluttered and choked. Ain't nothing funny about fifty or sixty gallons of pressurized water scratching and tearing at your skin, that's for sure. Dyin' of pneumonia before he reaches the chair, now _that_ would be funny.

\--- 

Wind

Okay, you're gonna laugh; it's the wind that I miss sometimes. In here, there ain't any disturbance in the stale air, unless you catch a breeze avoiding someone's fist in a fight, or when Toby's breath tickles my neck before we kiss. But it never changes temperature or smells fresh. So yeah, the rough wind punching me in the face and rolling down my back when I'm curved over my bike is Freedom beckoning to me. I'd follow that bitch out the door in a motherfucking heartbeat, gunning the engine, going anywhere I want, or... nowhere at all. Fuckin' Oz.  


**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on LJ](http://hardtime100.livejournal.com/260376.html).  
> 


End file.
